


leave me alone (i'm lonely)

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-26
Updated: 2013-12-26
Packaged: 2018-01-06 06:57:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1103827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>It’s almost like Blue Eyes’ mission in life is to stay invisible, but oh, Dean notices him anyway.</i>
</p>
<p>Or, the one where Dean really likes Cas, but the angsty teenager he is, he's too afraid to do something about it. And so is Cas, actually.</p>
            </blockquote>





	leave me alone (i'm lonely)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jokerindisguise](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jokerindisguise/gifts).



> I'm fully aware I used P!nk lyrics for the title, and while I regret nothing, I'm kind of sorry?
> 
> Written for Melody ♥ as a (kind of late) Christmas present, since I'm lame and all I can do is write... poorly constructed stories. This one's based on a prompt she gave me a really long time ago, where Cas was supposed to ask Dean out to a dance. Well... I tried? Hopefully it's an easy read and you enjoy it anyway. Love you!

The first thing Dean truly notices at this high school – only the second one since September so far – are eyes. Blue eyes penetrating Dean as he tries to casually move across the room with as much class as possible, dropping his bag and sitting down at the back. Those eyes don’t leave him for a second.

The fact that it’s a boy with dark brown hair, almost black, really, comes as a fact number two. Dean honestly didn’t even notice at first.

But it’s a guy, and his eyes are an unholy shade of blue, and Dean _blushes_ as he looks away.

 

Two weeks in and Blue Eyes is still the most interesting thing Dean’s encountered. More interesting than all the girls staring at him, more interesting than Sam’s every day rambling, more interesting than Dad’s phone call, even.

It’s peculiar, and it makes Dean a bit uneasy. 

Really, Dean doesn’t even know what’s peaked his interest. Blue Eyes stared at him once – ever since then, not a single glance. And it’s not like Dean could live off Blue Eyes’ voice or behavior: the boy is silent, hasn’t spoken a word in Dean’s presence, and that’s saying something since they have most classes together. It’s almost like Blue Eyes’ mission in life is to stay invisible, but oh, Dean notices him anyway.

It’s annoying, because Dean doesn’t _like_ other guys, he likes kissing and touching girls, and yet –

 

“I feel your opinion on this matter is rather immature,” says a deep voice, and it’s a voice Dean hasn’t heard before and so he looks up from where he’s been scribbling in his notebook.

It takes him approximately three seconds to figure out it’s Blue Eyes talking, thanks to the heated staring contest that’s going on between him and the teacher, Ms. Parkins. He’s taken aback, and immediately, he wishes he could go back and actually hear what Ms. Parkins has been saying that it’s provoked Blue Eyes to speak up.

Ms. Parkins raises her eyebrow at Blue Eyes. “Are you interested in a little trip to the principal’s office, Mr. Novak?” she asks.

Novak’s features harden, as far as Dean can see. “If you think I should discuss your homophobic comments with him, I am interested.”

If Dean wasn’t sitting already, he’s pretty sure he’d drop onto his ass now. Not only did Blue Eyes speak up; he spoke up defending something, expressing a rather controversial opinion – at least in Ms. Parkins’ eyes – and her tone didn’t stop him. And it fascinates Dean; how a quiet guy could just get up like that, and not get scared easily. A silly wave of admiration is born inside Dean’s head.

Dean loses his interest in the debate after that; he keeps his eyes on Novak’s face, though, and he follows him with his gaze as he is indeed sent to the principal’s office for being rude and, basically, opinionated. 

Dean goes back to doodling after that; but really, he’s lost in thought. Mr. Novak might be a considerate guy, or someone who gets pissed off when people don’t respect other people’s rights… or he might be gay himself.

Not like Dean’s gay, thank you very much.

He just finds this possibility very interesting.

 

Okay, so Dean might be a little bit gay, no matter how terrifying that is. 

He managed to get Blue Eyes’ first name – it’s Castiel, which is a ridiculous name, but Dean somehow likes it anyway. Just like he likes everything about the boy.

Dean runs into him one morning. He’s late because Sam couldn’t find a t-shirt that didn’t smell like Satan’s armpits and Dean had to take care of it, and he doesn’t even notice there’s a person running in the opposite direction.

The other person doesn’t notice, either. It feels like a car crash and Dean’s pretty sure he’s broken something.

He lands on his ass and he’s just about to start spitting out one vulgarism after another when a voice interrupts him and a hand grabs his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” Castiel says in a quiet voice and Dean looks up to see a blush creeping onto Castiel’s face. Dean is painfully aware of Castiel’s hand on his shoulder and he does his best to get up as quickly as possible, because he feels like the contact might make him explode.

Dean forgets all the insults he’s had building up in his mouth; swallows them and feels a blush coming onto his face as well. “It’s okay,” he mumbles and even though his ass is still hurting – just like his whole body, actually – he tries to play it cool. 

Castiel pulls away and takes a step backwards, still red in the face. “I’m late for my music class and I wasn’t paying attention – “

“Oh, you can play an instrument?” Dean asks, which almost makes him inhale sharply. “Or something?”

Castiel shrugs. “The flute. I don’t like it very much. My brothers usually steal it from me and try to hit me in the head with it.”

Dean laughs, knowing he would probably do the same to Sam. Castiel’s face softens for a second, and he stares at Dean, unmoving, as if inspecting Dean’s face and what it looks like when he’s smiling. 

Dean clears his throat. “Anyway,” he goes back to mumbling, and he drops his eyes under the weight of Castiel’s stare, “I’m late, too, so I should run.”

Castiel takes another step backwards, his back almost hitting the lockers, and he nods. When Dean looks up, Castiel’s face is unreadable once again, transforming back into a mystery. “I apologize again. Have a good day, Dean.”

Dean’s heart stupidly flutters when Castiel uses his name, meaning he must have gotten it somewhere just like Dean’s had to get Castiel’s, and one corner of his mouth goes up in a smile.

“You too,” he nods in Castiel’s direction and he bites on his lip. He’s pretty lost, everything is happening too fast and Dean doesn’t have the time to think it through; anyway, he thinks another few words can’t hurt anyone. “See you around, Cas,” he tells the boy, then, and starts running away before the blush can make it back onto his face.

Well, fuck. He’s got a problem.

 

It only gets worse after that accident. Dean spends most of his time either staring at Castiel or avoiding Sam. Admitting he has a crush on a guy with gorgeous blue eyes takes a lot and it makes him anxious. He feels like everyone can see it on his face, the fact that he might be into a boy – that he _is_ into a boy – and it’s making him uneasy.

Which results in avoiding Castiel as well, even though the staring is still going on.

Sometimes, Castiel will catch him staring and Dean will look away quickly, blush, even, and deny himself a single glance at Castiel for at least an hour. But it’s hard to ignore the guy when they see each other in almost every class.

Dean almost shits himself when Castiel approaches him after Biology. He’s just waking up from a little nap – which he always takes during Biology – and the sight of Castiel standing right next to him is both pleasant and scary.

Dean’s pretty sure those are butterflies in his stomach, and he hates that he reacts this way to a guy that’s smaller than him. Dean used to be the tease, and Castiel – damn, he’s not even trying. All he has to do is exist and that’s it for Dean.

“Hey,” he says dumbly and gets up to be the same level with Blue Eyes.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel says and as if sub-consciously, his face breaks into a soft grin. Dean decides a smile is a good look on him. “Can I ask you a question?”

Dean leans against his desk, his hand almost slipping and sending him to the ground before he manages to regain his balance. “Uh, sure,” he says and smirks, only hoping it doesn’t come off as retarded.

It probably does, considering Castiel’s face. Dean is just – he’s not used to this. He’s not used to crushing on a guy, and it’s weird even after coming to terms with it. It makes his knees all wobbly.

“I… oh.” Castiel bites down on his lip, and that’s a thing he really shouldn’t do around Dean because it makes things even worse. In a second, there’s panic written all over Castiel’s face and Dean frowns. It looks almost like Castiel wants to turn around and run away, and Dean is confused, but then Castiel nods to himself and takes a deep breath. “I’m not sure if you were listening but there’s a project we need to work on in pairs. Would you be interested in working on it with me?”

And that’s the best news Dean’s heard in a long time – he even manages to overlook how unexcited Castiel sounds. He’s too busy calming himself down, _don’t be such a damned pussy, Winchester_ , to notice anything else.

Before the silence gets weird and before they’re the only people left in the classroom, Dean manages a nod. “Sure! I wasn’t, uh, listening, actually,” he admits and runs his fingers through his short hair, “but we people who often, uh, run late, we should totally stick together.”

Castiel just nods, seeming just a little bit lifeless, and retreats to his desk to collect his things without saying anything else.

Dean’s not the guy who usually works on school projects, but he’s pretty sure they should have at least agreed on hanging out to discuss it. Suddenly, he has no idea what’s going on, and it all sounds a bit suspicious. He’s just standing there, confused as fuck.

 

Apparently, being confused as fuck doesn’t stop one from getting morning wood. 

It’s embarrassing, really, what with him sharing the same small sketchy motel room with Sammy, but he does his best to hide in the small bathroom and jerk off without sighing, god forbid moaning or groaning.

That turns out to be pretty hard, since it’s Castiel’s fingers Dean imagines, and Castiel’s name that almost slips out of his mouth as he comes.

 

Dad calls later that day, and Dean’s happy he doesn’t have to face him, because he blushes his way through the whole conversation, as if afraid his father knows what’s going on with Dean and his stupid crush.

Dad brings bad news, though. They’re out of town by the end of next week.

Dean already misses those blue eyes.

 

After a few confusing days -- it’s ridiculous, but the confusion does keep on growing and Dean’s pretty lost in his feelings, Castiel’s staring and occasional smile is just a bonus – Dean finally mans up enough to talk to Castiel.

Once again, it’s after Biology. It seems appropriate. Dean catches Castiel just walking out of the class, and he joins him without asking.

“Hey, buddy,” he says, trying so hard to make it sound casual he almost throws his arm around Castiel’s shoulders. Oh god, he must be fucking obvious. “So about that project you mentioned.”

“Oh. Yes. Of course,” Castiel mutters and Dean can’t help but notice how he steps to the side when their shoulders brush as they walk down the hall. “I completely forgot to get in touch with you. It’s due in two weeks.”

Dean sighs. 

That date makes him sad somehow: in two weeks, they’ll be out of town, probably already settled in a new one. Castiel will be long gone, and hopefully, so will be Dean’s crush. The thought makes Dean want to just give up on this, skip school for the rest of his time here, just wait for Dad to kill whatever he’s hunting and then leave.

When he looks to his side, though, and catches a glimpse of blue, he purses his lips. Whatever. He’s here now, will be for another few days, and although he sees at least a dozen of reasons why he should let this go, he doesn’t want to.

Despite Castiel’s previous maneuver to stay away from Dean, Dean bumps his fist against Castiel’s shoulder gently. “So, you free tomorrow afternoon? We could discuss it and shit.”

“I – “ Castiel looks surprised for a second, as if he didn’t think Dean would actually like to participate – as if he thought Dean wanted out and not in – but then he grins, and, yeah, that definitely looks good on him. “Sure. I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“Yep,” Dean confirms, hoping he doesn’t sound dumb or too eager. “See ya, Cas.”

“Dean,” Castiel offers almost as an afterthought, like he just wanted to say his name out loud. It sounds nice. 

 

Dean panics a little when Castiel doesn’t show up the following day. He doesn’t know what to do, he almost treats it like a little tragedy.

During lunch break – Dean’s neck hurting from how much he’s been looking around to spot Cas somewhere – a short guy with thin lips and hair almost touching his shoulders walks up to Dean.

“Hey,” he says like they’ve known each other for ages, a smirk playing on his lips. Dean knows the kid – he’s the school’s clown, but that’s pretty much how far Dean’s knowledge goes.

“Um, hey?” Dean tries, his eyebrow raised.

“I’m Gabriel, Castiel’s bro,” the guy says and a soft ‘oh’ escapes from Dean’s mouth. “So, my brother managed to tell me, between groaning and throwing up, that is, that he’s got some sort of meeting with you today, correct?”

Dean’s raised eyebrows quickly turn into a frown. “Yeah.”

“Well. I’m here to tell you he can’t make it. He’s busy groaning and throwing up.”

Dean immediately decides he doesn’t like the guy’s attitude, and he’s one hundred percent sure this is the brother who likes to steal Castiel’s flute and hit him with it. He shrugs this off, though, and tries to make his expression go still and neutral.

“Did something happen?” he asks instead. He thinks it might have been a wild night, all alcohol and maybe some weed. But still, he feels his stomach tie into a knot as he asks, as if sub-consciously worrying it might be something serious. 

Gabriel stares for a second, as if questioning Dean, _really, are you serious with that face right now_ kind of thing. “Stomach flu, my friend. I’m sure he’ll live.”

Dean gives up on his serious neutral face and frowns again. He _definitely_ doesn’t like this guy. “Whatever. I’m just asking ‘cause I’m working on a school project with him and it’s due soon. Is he going to be in school tomorrow or not?”

Gabriel steps back and holds his hands up. “Easy, I’m just the messenger! But he should be fine, yeah.”

“Good,” Dean breathes out, sounding a lot more relieved than he’d wanted to. He doesn’t have that many days left before leaving; he wants to see as much of Castiel as he possibly can, and that would be quite difficult if Castiel stayed home for a week. “I’ll – I’ll see him, then. Thanks for telling me.”

“You are – “ Gabriel starts and looks Dean up and down before gesturing wildly with his hands, “ – just incredible. Both of you.”

Dean doesn’t know what that’s supposed to mean, but before he can open his mouth and ask, Gabriel waltzes off to his group of friends.

 

Castiel walks up to Dean the next day before even shrugging his bag off. “Hi,” he says, and it looks like he’s been preparing to say this since the second he left the house. Dean sits back in his chair, doing everything he can to stop himself from getting up again. This way, he has to look up at Cas and somehow, it brings a lot of dirty thoughts.

“Hey, Cas,” he says, pretty sure Castiel can hear his heart beating all the way up there. “Is Gabriel the one who hits you with your own flute?”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t come yesterday,” Castiel says, as if ignoring Dean’s question. Then his face relaxes, though, and he nods. “And yes. That’s him.”

“I’m sorry,” Dean says and grins, “Sorry you didn’t come, sorry you have a brother like that.”

Castiel just grins for a second, his expression sincere, but then he clears his throat and swallows. “So, does this afternoon work for you?”

“Sure it does. Meet me by the cafeteria?”

“I will be there. This time for sure.”

They exchange small smiles and Cas then turns on his heels and makes his way to his chair. Dean’s eyes are glued to his back, and he really _is_ waiting for Cas to turn around and smile once again, he feels like that’s exactly what should happen – but Cas never turns around and he never smiles again. Dean doesn’t see his blue eyes until later that day.

 

They’ve been talking about their project for about three minutes, still standing by the cafeteria doors, when Castiel cuts himself off mid-sentence and is left staring at Dean’s face as if speechless.

“What’s wrong? You okay?” Dean’s hand almost goes for Castiel’s shoulder to catch him if he fell; he only manages to hold back at the very last second.

Castiel blinks. “I am,” he announces and then he leans in, something he hasn’t ever done before. “Dean, would you – “ and there he cuts himself off again, looking lost.

“Yeah?” Dean encourages him, eyes wide, lost in Castiel’s.

Castiel looks like he’s out of breath, and then he scrunches up his face and inhales as if he’d been holding his breath for minutes. “Would you like a glass of apple juice,” he finishes quietly, out of his previous tone, “I think I’ll get myself one.”

“I – uh.” Dean raises his eyebrows in a question, but Cas manages to look at him in such a dismissive way Dean decides to let it go. “Okay. Why not. Thanks, Cas.”

When Castiel disappears in the cafeteria to somehow get them apple juice, Dean leans against the wall and then lets his body fall down against it. Once he’s on the floor, he crosses his legs and starts tapping out a rhythm on his knees with his fingers. He’s just about to start whistling as well, bored, when he hears Cas clear his throat above him.

He looks up. He grins, because he’s somehow simply accepted this and is happy to spend any time near the guy whenever he can – even if it means talking about mitochondria, which is what they’ve been discussing – but then he notices Castiel’s hands are empty.

“No apple juice, huh?” he asks just to start the conversation somehow – in the short time, he’s learned Cas is not one to talk much.

“Dean,” Castiel says with desperate urgency, and Dean actually starts to worry here.

Did something happen, did they find Sammy dead somewhere, does Castiel know why Dean ended up in this town, what the hell is it?

“Would you go to the winter dance with me?” he asks in the end, in one breath, and Dean’s eyes go wide. 

He jumps up, facing Castiel, poor Castiel with a terrified expression on his face, biting down on his lip for his dear life, staring up at Dean almost pleadingly. 

“What?” Dean manages to squeeze out through his shock, snappy thanks to the surprise.

“I’m sorry if I offended you, Dean,” Castiel utters and his expression, exposing hurt for a split second, changes to stoic and reserved. “I quite liked you and my brother – he told me I should man up and ask you. I didn’t mean it as an insult. I’m sorry if you share Ms. Parkins’ opinion.”

“No,” Dean cuts him off, wishing he could have done it sooner, before all those words left Castiel’s mouth. “You didn’t offend me at all, I – “

I didn’t even know there was a winter dance. I will be gone in a week. My father is not here, but if he were, he would not approve. But you like me. How can you like me? Look at me. Look at you. I can’t go, I can’t say yes. There’s no point, I will be gone in a minute, in a second. I’ll disappear, and I don’t want to disappear knowing you could have disappeared with me, some day, maybe, if I got lucky enough. I don’t get lucky. Cas, I can’t go. Blue Eyes, you’re just a guy I happen to like. It doesn’t mean anything. My father would kill me. I don’t do commitments. I can’t do this. Why did you have to ask and make the stupid crush complicated? Why did you have to like me back?

“I guess we could go together,” he says out loud, his voice quiet and a bit shaky. Dean has no idea what he’s doing.

His hand catches Castiel’s forearm and slides down to his fingers. Castiel’s skin feels good against Dean’s, familiar already. 

Dean will make it work somehow; or so he chooses to believe as he leans in, adrenaline running through his veins instead of blood, for a kiss.


End file.
